Butterflies
by xXxrouxXx
Summary: Helping ghost's move on is Greg's second job. He usually saves it for away from work, but this time calls for him to mix it a bit. -Au/Tag to 9x17 No Way Out. One-shot.


**Authors Note: So this is a sort of tag/AU for 'No Way Out' Season 9 Episode 17. I decided to write this because…well I decided to. I have stories saved on a different computer, like full, written stories for CSI (I know surprised me too) but I can't upload them _because_ they are on another computer. So in good spirit I have written another one-shot! It is still related to the episode but also changed a lot of the wording and I haven't seen it in a while so I don't know the names.**

**Also I was listening to Broken Iris – Where Butterflies Never Die and Evenessence – Lithium and My Immortal as I wrote this. They make no sense to this one-shot, however, I am going to write some songfics that are Gregcentric and probably featuring his abilities soon.**

**The title annoyed me, as well as the summary. I stared at the screen and bashed my head on the keyboard for ages before I just typed something, I am sticking to it, no matter how bad and cliché it is! xD**

**(PS Undeline isn't working grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr)**

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><p><strong>Summary: Helping ghost's move on is Greg's second job. He usually saves it for away from work, but this time calls for him to mix it a bit.<strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, CBS do.**

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><p><strong>Butterflies<strong>

"Can you say goodbye to my daddy for me?"

Greg did a one-eighty degree turn to see a small boy, with sandy blond hair standing there in pyjamas, with his hand in the possession of a woman dressed in white with blonde hair draping down past her shoulders. The boy looked confused and the woman looked as if she had been crying.

Greg tilted his head, "Whatcha say?"

"My daddy…I didn't say goodbye, could you tell him for me?" The boy asked again.

"Why can't you say it yourself?" Greg already knew the answer to this, but he needed confirmation.

The boys face turned confused, "I…I d-don't really know..."

Suddenly the woman next to him swept the boy up into a hug and rubbed up and down his back muttering, "It will be okay. You were too young, but we will survive."

The boy smiled, "Mommy, your warm…why is it so cold out here? Can we go inside yet?"

The woman choked out a sob, "Honey, you'll get warmer later, when we pass on…we can't go yet though." She looked directly at Greg, her piercing blue eyes sending shivers down his back, "Tell…tell him I love him…tell him that, Jason, his son loves him. Tell him we will miss him, and that one day we will be together again…"

"I will…ummm…" Greg didn't know her name and it didn't come automatically to him, meaning she was probably an older spirit coming to help her son.

"Samantha. If he doesn't believe you…tell him that 'Sammy will reign down a living heaven on him' and he knows it's more painful than hell any day." She told Greg.

Greg nodded, "I will tell him…"

"Mommy, I don't like it here!" Jason cried into his mother's shoulder and Greg felt his heart tug.

Samantha patted her sons back as tears ran down her eyes, "I'm taking him across now…tell him please…"

"But who am I telling?" Greg asked.

Jason turned and hiccupped a little, "My daddy silly." He said tiredly, "Mommy, can we go see daddy too?"

Samantha shook her head, "No honey. You'll know when you see him."

"Mommy, daddy might be warm as well, please can we go see him."

Samantha let out another sob, "We are going somewhere where it is never cold honey. It is beautiful and you can run around all day."

Jason lent his head against his mother's shoulder again, "I'd like that mommy, I like warmth…will there be butterflies?"

"Yes, Jason, there are butterflies, they are always there and never die, they multiply daily."

"I like butterflies." Jason muttered as her fell asleep on his mother shoulder.

A golden light wrapped around the pair.

"We are in a better place…Greg, give him comfort please…"

When the golden light died, they were gone and Greg was on the verge of tears. Yet another family had been broken up by the cruelty of criminals.

See, Greg can talk to ghosts or spirits or whatever you like to call them. He could also see into the future, feel emotions and sometimes, if the time was right read minds and other such phenomenon. It was a skill he had gained from his Nana Olaf and if he was honest he wasn't in love with it. If he was helping a ghost feel fulfilled he would usually wait until he had clocked out, but this was a kid, and sometimes there was a time to cross the line between his science and his psychic ability and now was the time.

Riley looked up from the ground at him, "You alright Greg?"

Greg nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine, just got a message to deliver…were any children, probably a boy killed here?"

Riley raised an eyebrow but said nothing before pointing to the side where a man sat on the floor cradling a small boy in his arms as he rocked backwards and forwards crying.

Greg walked slowly towards him, seeing Dave struggling to gain custody of the child from the grieving father.

"Excuse me…I'm Greg Sanders, with the crime lab…what is his name?"

"Um…Jason, Jason Moorly." The man replied hesitantly.

"Well, Mr. Moorly, your son isn't with us anymore. He's in a better place, and I'm sure he's missing you."

"How would you know?" The man snapped.

Greg winced, "Because I spoke to your son."

Dave's jaw fell slack and Greg almost regretted saying that…almost.

"Are you a psychic?" The man asked suddenly.

Greg nodded slightly, "Yeah, I suppose, but you need to lets us take your son…because we can help find his killer, and we can get justice for this, but only if you let us take him. We will take good care of him I promise."

Sobbing the man let go of his son's body, but immediately, and surprising Greg himself, latched onto Greg.

"Oh my god, I can't believe it. He's not gone, he can't be gone."

Awkwardly Greg ran his hand up and down the man's back in a small circle in a hope of calming him.

"He is gone, but he wanted me to say goodbye." Greg took in a shaky breath, "Also, someone called Samantha wanted me to say that she loves you, so does Jason, and she wanted me to say that she misses you and that you will be together one day soon."

The man shook his head, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no."

"She said that if you didn't believe me to say that 'Sammy will reign a living heaven on you', and that it is more painful than hell any day."

The man let out a noise that was a mix between a laugh, a sob and a choke, "She was my living heaven on earth." He muttered, "She'd always say that when it got better I would be in hell, but it was always amazing with her…always, so I'd say I already must be in hell to feel this good."

Greg didn't really understand the way that worked, but nodded anyway and continued patting the man's back.

"Are they happy?" The man asked.

"That would be giving away the big punch line man…" But when he saw the man's grief he immediately nodded, "Yeah, man, they are happy. Butterflies never die there." The silent _'apparently' _was heard by the both of them, but the man smiled as if at peace.

"Butterflies?" The man inquired.

Greg shrugged, "I don't know. It jus the butterflies, for some reason they always ask about the butterflies."

The man seemed to drink this in before he smirked slightly, "It's because they are free."

"What?" Greg asked, as he had zoned out a little.

The man shrugged slightly, "They represent innocence, they are free and happy…like the people…on the other side."

Greg could tell the man was sceptical about his psychic powers, but then again who wasn't. "I have never thought of it like that." Greg muttered, and it actually made perfect sense, freedom, innocence, happiness. The butterfly embodied it all.

"Do you…want a drink?" The man asked, breaking Greg out of his thoughts.

Greg looked back at Riley who was still processing the dead body and then to Brass and Catherine, who were walking down the road, analysing the cars. Thinking for a moment he considered the offer.

"I'm on duty, but really…want could it hurt. Sure."

Greg helped the grief ridden man up the pathway and into the house.

Dave came running up to him suddenly, "Greg, what's this about psy-"

"Don't even ask…and if anyone wonders where I am, I went home." Maybe it was good thing that Greg had mixed his second job with his first. He seemed to get better results.

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><p><strong>Okay, so that bit about living in heavenhell is something that my _own_ mum and dad have going, and I really don't understand it…:/ If this is a bit weird/hard to read I have had…three glasses of WKD and while I am not drunk I am a little light headed. I also, _hate_ the way I have ended this…I could do better but not tonight…meh. Anyway, what did you think? Read and review!**

**xXxrouxXx**


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